


Standing In The Dust

by fen-ha-fuck-you (abldav)



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Grief/Mourning, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-12-16 14:44:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11830911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abldav/pseuds/fen-ha-fuck-you
Summary: It was a bittersweet relief to sleep—to dream. In his dreams, she lived.Here, she smiled. He saw the relieved grin she gave him whenever they briefly escaped danger. He saw the smirk she gave him when she enjoyed one of his stupid, morbid jokes. They all hurt, a deep ache settling inside his chest, but the one that hurt the most was the smile he never got to see in reality.Here, he saw her unburdened. The space between her eyebrows was never creased. Her shoulders didn’t slouch with the weight of the world. And her smile… her smile held the light of a thousand suns.A.K.A. Another reunion fic that no one asked for





	Standing In The Dust

**Author's Note:**

> Title from [Walk Through The Fire](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WIdJi5IE0P0) by Zayde Wolf and Ruelle.
> 
> A special thank you to [Annie](https://clarkescrusade.tumblr.com/) ([clarkescrusade](http://archiveofourown.org/users/alindy/pseuds/clarkescrusade/)) for always being willing to read over my nonsense and being a constant inspiration.

All of her instincts were telling her to shoot—not to risk it. Her heart told her to open fire before they realized anyone had survived. To protect Madi. 

Her head was another story. 

_ There could be more of them. They might have weapons. _

Clarke had recognized the name Eligius almost immediately. It wasn’t a hard jump. All those articles and connections to the Second Dawn sprang forward in her mind. A mining colony that went silent. The only question was if this prisoner transport contained anyone useful. 

And if they’d cooperate. Or listen to her in the first place. 

Okay, so it wasn’t the  _ only _ question. 

She looked back at Madi from her vantage point among the brush. She inhaled sharply at the spike of fear that shot through her and felt a prick at the back of her eyes in a surge of emotion she hadn’t experienced in a long time. 

The girl was cleaning and loading the guns like Clarke had shown her years ago. She sat in the driver’s seat of the rover with the door open, her legs dangling out the side. 

Clarke’s eyes welled with tears, and she breathed out a quiet sob, covering her mouth with her hand.

* * *

 

She had found Madi just over five years ago taking refuge in the remains of the dropship. It had taken a few weeks for the then nine-year-old to trust Clarke fully. She had somehow been surviving alone for almost a year, so that wasn’t entirely surprising. Clarke assumed the girl had nightblood, like she did, and took her under her wing. 

A few weeks later when they were checking the traps Clarke set, Madi slipped down a rocky hill and scraped her knees. While Clarke patched her up, she showed Madi her own blood, and they’d been inseparable ever since. 

Clarke began teaching her English. Madi had bits and pieces from the warriors in her village, but she was eager to learn more. Then they added more lessons: earth skills, math, what little technological jargon Clarke knew, and history. Madi  _ loved _ history. She absorbed everything Clarke taught her like a sponge. 

When they weren’t involved with lessons or finding food, they were talking, sharing their lives before the death wave with each other. 

After a few months, Madi asked Clarke why she always moved the rover after she fell asleep. So, Clarke told her.  

About what happened right before  _ praimfaya _ . About her friends. About Bellamy. 

She told her how the peak she drove to every night was the highest point in the habitable zone, and how, back on the Ark, they’d always be above the eastern United States as dawn broke. 

Madi had a million burning questions after that, but a small voice in the back of her head told her not to ask. She didn’t ask why Clarke always preferred being alone when she radioed. She didn’t ask why, after all these years with no response, Clarke was still sure someone might be able to hear. She didn’t ask why, if  _ all _ Clarke’s friends were in space, she only talked to Bellamy. 

One afternoon a few years later, a memory came back to Madi out of nowhere.

“I think I was in this thing once.”

“You’ve been in the rover every day for years,” Clarke replied with a small smile, cleaning her rifle.

“No, like… before.”

Clarke’s hands stilled and she looked up at Madi slowly, the corners of her lips dropping. “What do you mean?”

“I was little.  _ Azgeda _ raided my village. That’s when my parents died.” Clarke nodded. She had heard that part of the story before. 

“They took us to this… metal building. It might’ve been one of the stations you told me about. It looked like it. They made us work with the machines. The day before they were supposed to move us, a group of  _ skaikru _ came in. There was this man… I was scared. Not of him. But he walked in and looked right at me. He looked worried, but his eyes were kind. Gentle. I felt like I could trust him. I dropped a note asking for help, and they did. They blew up the  _ azgeda _ warriors that were keeping us prisoner and brought us to Arkadia. In this.” She patted the side of the rover. Clarke just stared at her.

“The man helped me out of the rover and hugged me. It was the first time I felt safe in a long time. I can’t believe I forgot about that.”

Clarke stood from her spot on the ground and began walking to the treeline.

“Clarke?”

“I’m fine, I just… I’m fine.”

Clarke was in the forest for two hours before she came back, carrying the first rabbit they’d seen since before the death wave. She skinned it without a word. After a while, Madi spoke up. “Clarke—”

“Bellamy,” Clarke said in explanation, her face set in stone. “The man that helped you was Bellamy.”

That night, they ate dinner in silence.

* * *

 

There wasn’t a moment that she didn’t miss Bellamy. 

She missed  _ all _ of them. But she missed him more. She hated that it took the end of the world to admit it. Clarke had been living with that fact for years, but as she watched Madi, her heart finally broke. 

Clarke was hidden well enough by the foliage that the girl couldn’t see her. So she cried.  _ Sobbed _ . 

She missed him every day, but she never let herself  _ miss him _ . She had a goal—a time frame. For five years she counted down the days. Then, when that passed, she counted up. Being able to get down from the Ark was always more than a five-year problem, after all. Whenever she started to slip—lose the hope she so desperately clung to—she repeated three words until she started to believe them again.  _ He’s coming down. He’s coming down. He’s coming down _ . 

_ He’s not coming down. _

She stopped herself before that line of thinking got any further than it already was. There was no way for her to know that. 

_It’s been six years._ _How hurt will he be if you give up hope now?_

Still. Now—today—it hurt more than it had ever hurt before. 

She’d been taking care of Madi for years, but the girl had never been in  _ danger _ . There had never been a direct, immediate threat on her life. 

Clarke always wished Bellamy was there with her, but now she  _ needed _ him. 

She knew the fear of needing to protect her people. She knew the fear of needing to protect the people she loved. But she’d never experienced the fear of needing to protect her  _ child _ . 

Looking through the leaves now, Clarke saw her daughter. She saw her daughter cleaning the guns that she and Bellamy had found. She saw her daughter loading the guns like Bellamy had taught her a lifetime ago in a forgotten bunker. She saw her daughter sitting in the rover that had been his, surrounded by the warm metal that had always meant home. She saw her daughter who was  _ alive _ because of him. Because of Bellamy. 

She thought back to before—to him. He came to Earth for Octavia. He was willing to kill for her. She thought about the panicked look in his eyes when he couldn’t find her, and the dejected one when he felt her pulling away. He was a parent, too.

Clarke had never felt closer to him. Or farther away.

She looked up to the sky, imagining that she could see the Ark orbiting above, and whispered. “If you’re gonna come down… today would be nice.”

Clarke closed her eyes and heard his voice in her head, as she had so many times before. He urged her to take another look at the prisoners fanning out in the valley below, gently probing the part of her brain that knew she had overlooked something.

She picked up her rifle once more and took a deep, stabilizing breath. She looked down the scope. Some were running around, others lying down, running their fingers through the grass. Two were huddled by the entrance to the ship, looking at a large piece of paper that Clarke assumed was a map. She shook her head, willing herself to see the missing piece of the puzzle.

She took a minute. Froze. Looked back down the scope. Counted.

Clarke pulled back and huffed out a laugh, an unexpected smile tugging at her lips.

_ 100 _ . She knew what she had to do.

* * *

 

Clarke paused just before emerging from the treeline into the newcomers’ camp. She glanced up and to the right, through the leaves where she knew Madi was positioned, covering her. A quick  _ blink _ of a flashlight in response told her it was time.

_ Here we go. _

She unsnapped her thigh holster and removed her pistol, weighing it with her hands, and stepped into the clearing.

No one noticed, still too absorbed in their own elation at finally being on Earth.

Clarke shook her head in disapproval, her own thoughts flashing back to another camp—another life.

She walked up nonchalantly behind the two prisoners who were studying the map, now absorbed in conversation. 

“—haven’t seen any animals. The nuts we found will have to do for now,” the woman said, brushing her curly black hair behind her ear.

“Just because we haven’t seen them doesn’t mean they aren’t there,” the man in front of her replied. “We made a hell of a lot of noise coming down here. Might’ve just scared them off.”

“Which means we’ll have to spread out to find them. We need to rip some branches and make some spears or something.  Send out a hunting party, sooner rather than later.”

The man nodded in agreement, picking up one of the nuts from the bag next to them. Clarke examined it briefly and spoke up.

“I wouldn’t eat that if I were you.” The two strangers spun around, the woman shouting the others over. The man noticed the gun in Clarke’s hand and stepped forward, his arm going out in front of the woman.

Clarke continued.

“They’re called jobi nuts. Hallucinogenic with some minor healing properties in small doses. Lethal in large ones.”

Clarke glanced around at the crowd surrounding her, brandishing sticks and shards of metal that Clarke assumed broke from their ship as they landed. She rolled her eyes.

“I just walked, unnoticed, into the center of your camp. I’ve had plenty of time to kill you. If I wanted you dead, you would be.”

The woman looked her up and down, then, coming to a decision pushed the man’s arm down and took a step forward. 

“We were under the impression everyone on Earth was dead.”

“You wouldn’t be the only ones.”

The woman narrowed her eyes. “Who are you?”

“You first,” Clarke replied coolly. “I’m not the one that burned down dozens of trees in the only green spot for miles.”

Clarke noted the rising tension and glanced around, the prisoners surrounding her tightening their hands around makeshift clubs. 

“I’m Tori. That’s Alex,” the woman said, gesturing at the man behind her. “We’re miners. All of us.” She paused for a moment. “Uh… do you know what mining is?”

Clarke tilted her head slightly, fighting to hide her amusement, and raised a single eyebrow.

“Right, uhm…” Tori continued. “We’ve been frozen for a while. We used to live here. On Earth, I mean. Before the bombs and radiation and al—”

“I know what cryo is,” Clarke cut in. “And I also know that the side of your ship clearly says ‘ _ Prisoner _ Transport.’”

Tori turned back to Alex, the two of them sharing a glance in an unspoken language that Clarke understood too well. 

“It was a bad idea coming here alone,” Alex said. The other prisoners braced themselves and tightened their grips on their weapons once more.

Clarke drummed her fingers once at her thigh. “Who said I was alone?”

A laser dot appeared on Tori’s forehead, then Alex’s, then another five on random prisoners’. They all froze, only moving their eyes to search the treeline. 

“I didn’t come here to hurt you,” Clarke continued. “But I also didn’t come here to die. If you’re here to survive, fine. But the  _ second _ ,” she said, stepping into Alex’s space for emphasis, “you threaten me or  _ any _ of my people again…”

She let the sentence trail off. Alex visibly swallowed and nodded minutely. With another gesture, the dots disappeared. 

“Now that we understand each other,” Clarke said, stepping back and looking between Alex and Tori. “I really don’t care if you’re criminals or not. It’s the  _ mining _ I’m concerned with.”

Tori’s eyebrows scrunched together. “What about it?”

“Are you?”

“Miners? Yeah. Not voluntarily, but that’s kinda what we do.”

Clarke nodded to herself. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but the Earth has changed while you’ve been gone. My people and I have knowledge and technology that can help you survive.”

“If we do what?” Alex asked. 

“What you do. I need you to mine.”

“Where?” Tori asked.

“I’m gonna need an answer first,” Clarke replied.

“We’re in,” Alex said after a moment, eliciting groans from several in the surrounding crowd. “We need all the help we can get. Where are we headed?”

“A city. Polis.”

“Annapolis?” Tori asked, obviously not really expecting Clarke to answer.

“Baltimore, actually.” At the other woman’s surprise, Clarke shrugged. “I didn’t name it. I’ll tell you more when we get there. You’re gonna want to pack all the equipment you can carry. And rations, if you have any. We’ll head out first thing in the morning.”

_ Thank god _ .

In all honesty, Clarke didn’t know how she was going to last another twelve hours with all the anxious energy running through her. After years of feeling useless, she was finally going to be able to  _ do _ something. She could get her people out of that stupid bunker. If they were still alive. ‘ _ From the ashes, we will rise’ has never felt so literal _ .

“What do we call you?” Tori asked, breaking Clarke out of her thoughts.

“Phoenix,” she replied immediately, an overwhelming need for anonymity washing over her.

“Is that your real name?” Alex added, with a slight mocking lilt.

Clarke looked at him with hard eyes, wiping the smile from his face. “No.”

She turned her back and walked away.

* * *

 

It was a bittersweet relief to sleep—to dream. In his dreams, she lived. 

Here, she smiled. He saw the relieved grin she gave him whenever they briefly escaped danger. He saw the smirk she gave him when she enjoyed one of his stupid, morbid jokes. They all hurt, a deep ache settling inside his chest, but the one that hurt the most was the smile he never got to see in reality. 

Here, he saw her unburdened. The space between her eyebrows was never creased. Her shoulders didn’t slouch with the weight of the world. And her smile… her smile held the light of a thousand suns.

It was his own personal hell.

The dream changed, as it so often did. She was no longer there in front of him, happy. She was nowhere at all.

She was supposed to be behind him, following him, but he could not hear her. He neared the blinding light of the exit, the sun beckoning him to the surface.  

He knew this story. He knew who he was, and he knew how it ended. Yet, the nagging feeling in the back of his mind persisted.  _ What if she isn’t there? What if they’ve been lying to you? What if you came down here for nothing? _

He turned.

There, behind him, she stood, muted like a shadow. Her face dropped in despair, her eyes pleading with him to understand a message he wasn’t receiving. 

Her hand rose to his chest, settling across his heart, and he felt tears stream down his cheeks, though he didn’t understand why. 

He raised his arms slowly, hands hovering over her. Her eyes closed, sighing. Her breath ghosted across his cheeks, and he lowered his hands to cup her face.

And when he finally touched her, she crumbled to ash in his arms.

* * *

 

Bellamy blinked awake, then immediately closed his eyes again, the ever present ache growing deeper as he remembered his dream.

He was used to being Orpheus. His dreams had taken place in the Underworld almost every night for six years. 

He thought turning to see no one was bad. Seeing her was worse. 

For six years, he saw no one. The first time she showed up behind him was a little over two weeks ago. She looked exactly like he had seen her last when they still thought she would be coming with them. When she had been trying to convince him she wasn’t. 

When he had woken up that morning, he was halfway through the door to find her when he remembered and broke down in the hallway. 

He was mourning her. He was  _ trying _ . He had been trying for years. Up until that morning two weeks ago, he thought he already had. 

Monty had found him hours later when he missed breakfast. He said nothing—just sat down beside him. 

After a while, Monty spoke up.

“You need to talk to her.” Bellamy looked at him. “You need to find a spot, and you need to tell her what you never told her.”

Bellamy closed his eyes and shook his head. “I can’t,” he choked out, his voice breaking. 

“You have to. It’s been years, Bellamy. You need to let her go.”

“It’s my fault.”

“It’s not. And you know she’d give you  _ that look _ if she ever heard you say it.” Bellamy let out a shaky breath that almost sounded like a laugh. “Jasper was already…  _ gone _ … when I told him. But at least I told him. I know it’s not the same, Bellamy, but...”

“I didn’t think it’d still hurt like this,” he admitted after a moment.

Monty looked over at him, his dark eyes filled with understanding. “You need to tell her.”

And he’d tried. He’d tried to force out the three words he’d meant to say that day on the beach, but he couldn’t. He didn’t want to say them to empty space while staring down at a ruined planet. He wanted to say them to her. 

He opened his eyes and sat up, rubbing his face and wiping away the crusted salt from his cheeks. Bellamy glanced out the window of his room, watching the line of light creep across the single green spot on Earth as the sun rose. 

He opened the drawer beside the bed and gingerly took out the well-worn piece of paper he stored there. 

The day after they got to the ring, they had searched for supplies. They all had spread out to cover more ground, and Bellamy somehow ended up in Medical. He had been there only a few times growing up, lucky enough not to get sick often. 

He took inventory of the cabinets, noting the complete and utter lack of supplies with a sigh, before moving to the small work stations. 

In the first, he found nothing whatsoever, stripped clean just like the cabinets. The second was a different story. In the bottom drawer of the desk, pushed way to the back, was a carefully folded piece of paper, which was odd enough. 

Paper didn’t exist much of anywhere on the Ark save the precious books stored in the library. Why a single piece had made its way to Medical was beyond him. Until he unfolded it, and his breath was taken away. 

On it, drawn in pencil, was a mountainous landscape complete with a waterfall and river cascading down, surrounded by a field of flowers. It was gorgeous, especially for someone who had never seen the ground, but that wasn’t why Bellamy stared, his heart sinking in his chest. 

He stared at the artist’s mark, a fading  _ CG _ scrawled in the corner which he lightly grazed his thumb over, careful not to smudge it.

He had hidden the sketch in his pocket, feeling selfish for keeping it to himself. No one was surprised when he chose to stay in one of the small rooms right outside Medical, but none of them said a word.

He had carefully tucked the paper into the drawer beside his bed, his last attempt at trying to keep her safe. 

Holding it now felt less like trying to protect  _ her _ , and more like trying to protect himself. 

He had tried to talk about her with the others—he knew they were concerned. They still didn’t think he was dealing with his grief properly. There were times he would walk into rooms and they would suddenly go silent. They knew he didn’t say her name. 

His head told him he  _ should _ say it. That it would give him closure.

But it all felt too final. Whenever he overheard the others—whispering in a way they didn’t want him to hear—they were talking about her in the past tense, and he couldn’t do that.

He couldn’t talk about her like she was gone when his heart wanted so badly to believe that she was still with him. He couldn’t do that and still say what Monty wanted him to say. 

So he didn’t do either. He just held onto the last piece of physical evidence that she existed at all.

He rubbed his thumb over her initials again, like he had that first day and countless times following. A shaky breath escaped him and he dropped his head, exhaustion settling in his bones. 

Two brisk knocks had barely echoed through the room before his door cracked open and Raven poked her head in. He didn’t bother to hide the sketch from her—not anymore—he just set it down gently on the bed beside him.

“Hey,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “You good?”

“Fine. What’s going on?” 

“Normally, I’d probe a little deeper into that  _ blatantly _ obvious subject change—”

Bellamy sighed, rubbing his hand over his face. “Raven—”

“— _ but _ ,” she continued over him, “I’m calling a group meeting. I’m giving you five minutes to pull yourself together and join us in the Mess or we’re leaving without you.”

Bellamy’s head shot up at that. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

She didn’t answer, just tilted her head and smirked before shutting his door behind her. 

He jumped up, finding his shirt and pulling it over his head with newfound energy. He rushed to the door, his hand already on the knob before he paused. Coming to a decision, he went back and grabbed the sketch, folding it and carefully placing it in one of his pockets. Then he ran from his room to join his friends.

* * *

 

Less than six hours later, they were packing everything they could into the rocket that had brought them to space. After that was done, Raven shooed everyone but Echo away, insisting that they’d be more of a hindrance than a help during launch preparation. Bellamy wasn’t quite sure how to define the relationship that had developed between the two—then again, it’s not like it was his place to. 

The ring had been badly damaged when the Ark separated, so a lot of repairs were necessary. Monty and Raven had worked together to figure out which problem areas took priority, but Raven alone was left to actually make those repairs since Monty was the only one who could get the algae farms going and stabilize the oxygen. Echo had volunteered to do the heavy lifting and unofficially became Raven’s assistant, eager to do anything, really, to take her mind off the fact that she was in  _ space _ . 

They’d been damn near inseparable since, growing closer as the years passed. No one knew what  _ exactly _ they were to each other, but no one was willing to face the wrath of the both of them combined to actually ask.

Murphy and Emori were as solid as ever, especially after Emori took to being in space so well. She was entranced by the intricacies of the Ark, constantly comparing and contrasting it to the tech she had gathered while on Earth. One day, after a little too much of Monty’s improvised algae moonshine, Bellamy got Murphy to gush about how adorable she was. He hadn’t lived it down. 

Monty and Harper were still together, too, although Bellamy wasn’t sure how much longer that would last now that they were returning to Earth. Harper had started coming to him for advice more than a year ago. She was starting to doubt whether they were still together because they loved each other, or because they had no other options. Bellamy comforted her as best he could, but he didn’t exactly view himself as a relationship guru. He tried not to think about why she  _ did _ .

Bellamy had found himself doing that a lot over the years—acting as a therapist of sorts. His friends came to him to vent, ask for his opinion, or to just talk through things. He had been the one to set up the “group therapy” sessions, although he didn’t dare call them that. 

Raven talked about Finn, her mom, her leg, and the various torture she had been subjected to. Monty talked about his parents, Jasper, and his guilt surrounding Maya and Mount Weather. Harper talked about Mount Weather, too, but also the man she pushed down in the black rain, and Monroe. Emori discussed growing up cast-out, her brother, and the City of Light. Echo talked about Roan, the Mountain Men, and apologized profusely for trying to kill them so many times. Eventually, Murphy opened up to talk about his childhood, all his near-death experiences, and his torture at the hands of the grounders.

Bellamy talked about Octavia and growing up with that secret weighing on him. He talked about the torture he had gone through in Mount Weather as well, being caged and hung upside down. 

During one session, though, Emori started talking about  _ her _ . About how she hadn’t realized until she got to space just how many times she’d saved her. They all nodded in agreement, save Bellamy who sat frozen in his chair.

He knew she would come up eventually. He wasn’t prepared for how hard it would hit him. 

The sound of Monty calling his name across the circle had jolted him back to attention, and he realized they had been sharing stories about her, and now they were looking to him to share his own. 

He blinked a few times, his throat tightening. 

“I wasn’t planning on staying,” he finally choked out, “once we found out the Ark was coming down. I was going to leave.” Monty, Harper, Raven, and Murphy shared a look. Bellamy didn’t notice. He continued, staring at his hands. “I was going to ask her to come with me. I told her… I told her how guilty I felt. For the culling. And everything else. She said—”

He broke off, unnoticed tears falling from his eyes. He swallowed. 

“She said she needed me. And then she… she forgave me. She barely knew me, but she forgave me.”

The room was silent, a heavy blanket descending upon the room. 

“No one had ever done that before,” he added in a small voice, almost to himself. “She helped me talk to Jaha and got me pardoned, and then after Mount Weather, I… I let her leave. I watched her walk away, and I didn’t try to stop her.”

Monty shifted closer. “Bellamy—”

“She knew. She knew she was going to be left there, she told me. Before… I think she was going to...” Bellamy closed his eyes and took a deep breath, leaving the sentence hanging. “And I left her behind. I left her  _ alone _ .”

“ _ We _ left her behind,” Raven said, her voice cracking. “We all did. You didn’t do that by yourself.”

“I made the call,” he replied, his voice hardening. “And now I have to live with it.”

He had stood up then and walked out, leaving the rest of them to watch after him in silence. 

Murphy nudged him with an elbow, breaking Bellamy out of his flashback. He had been standing off to the side of the rocket, feeling as useless as he always did up here. 

“What’s the plan, Boss?”

Raven poked her head out from the rocket. “Yeah, seriously, I need to get some coordinates in this thing. Unless, of course, you want to land a continent away from everyone else. Which is fine, I guess, but that should really be a group decision.”

“We land as close as we can to Polis,” Bellamy said, brushing off Raven’s sarcasm. “I figure the sooner we can meet up with everyone else, the better.”

“Plus you want to see Octavia,” Emori added, smirking. 

“Yeah, plus that,” he replied with a small smile of his own. 

“Well, we can only get so close, considering we have to land in water,  _ but _ ,” Raven said, “I’ll put us as close to the shore as we can get.” She ducked back inside, presumably to plot their landing. “Hop inside, kids,” she called out after a minute. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

* * *

 

Apparently to Raven, ‘as close as we can get,’ meant ‘five hundred feet from shore.’ It wasn’t a bad thing when Bellamy considered she dropped them from orbit and managed to not kill them all while also hitting a target that was essentially the size of a pinhead. But then again, there was also the small detail that only Emori and Echo actually knew how to swim, so he supposed it was a matter of opinion. 

“ _ Shit _ ,” Raven said when she opened the door to take a look outside the rocket.

“I almost don’t want to know,” Murphy replied.

“So… I  _ might _ have been a little off.”

“How far is ‘a little?’” Bellamy asked.

“Roughly thirty miles,” Raven replied, a questioning lilt at the end. “I thought we might be a little off course on the way down but I wasn’t sure.”

“So much for close. Do you know which way we need to go?”

Raven nodded. “North.”

“Then get us to shore. We’ve got a long walk ahead of us.”

They managed to beach the rocket but were still a couple dozen feet from shore. They hopped out, grabbing as much as they could from inside, and battled the waves to get to solid land. 

By the time they all made it out, they were soaked. They removed the suits they had worn down—just in case—and started the trek to Polis.

Before they made it, however, the sun had begun to dip below the horizon.

“We can’t stop now, we’re almost there,” Echo complained.

“We can’t keep going through the night, it’s too dangerous. We don’t know these woods anymore,” Bellamy replied. “We’re what, five miles away?” He looked to Raven for confirmation.

She nodded. “Around that, yeah.”

“We’ll get some rest and start up again at first light,” Bellamy reasoned. “We’ll be there in no time.”

* * *

 

Bellamy wasn’t sure what he was expecting when they finally got to the city, but it wasn’t  _ this _ . 

The iconic tower in the center of the city had collapsed, and none of them noticed they had reached their destination until they were standing on rubble. As they got closer to the city, they saw people milling around in the distance, pickaxes slung over their shoulders. 

“What the hell is going on?” Bellamy asked no one in particular, turning back to his friends. 

“This doesn’t make sense,” Monty replied. “If the tower collapsed, it fell on top of the bunker. There’d be  _ tons _ of debris. None of these people could’ve been inside.”

“What are you saying?” Bellamy asked. “There was another bunker that worked?”

“Maybe…,” Monty thought out loud. “I don’t—”

“Stop right there,” an unfamiliar voice called out. A woman stepped out from an alley and approached them slowly, gun raised. 

“Where’d you get that?” Bellamy wondered out loud, raising his hands to show he was unarmed.

“Who are you?” she questioned, ignoring him.

“We’re here to find our people,” he replied. 

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“You didn’t answer mine.”

They stared at each other in tense silence until the woman broke it, narrowing her eyes. 

“Are you Phoenix’s people?”

Bellamy glanced back at his friends, who all looked just as confused as he was. “I don’t know who that is.”

The woman looked him up and down, then came to a decision. “Follow me.” Echo took a step forward, and the woman held out a hand. “ _ Just _ him.”

Bellamy nodded a head at his friends and followed the woman. “Where are we going?”

“To talk to Phoenix.”

* * *

 

Clarke stood hunched over what had quickly become her desk. There were few buildings still standing in Polis, but the prisoners had insisted this one become her base of operations. They looked to her like a kind of leader. It was strange, she thought, how quickly she fell into old patterns.

“What’s this one?” Madi asked, pointing to the old map in front of them.

“That’s TonDC,” Clarke replied.

“Why’s the name so long?”

“It used to be called Washington, named after the first president. It’s where all the laws were made.”

Madi nodded to herself, happily absorbing this new information when a knock came at the door. 

“Enter,” Clarke called out, not bothering to turn around. 

“Phoenix,” Tori greeted, taking a few steps into the room. “There’s a group at the perimeter you had us set up. I figured you’d want to question one.”

Clarke nodded, her brows furrowing, and turned to face her. “Where’d they come from?”

“I’m not sure. I thought they might be your people.”

“Did—”

“No other ships have come down. At least, nothing we’ve seen.”

“Did you bring one with you?”

The woman nodded. “He’s in the hall.”

“Send him in. Madi, why don’t you go with Tori and check and make sure our new friends are taking care of the guns properly.”

“But—”

“Madi.”

The girl sighed, grumbling to herself, and let herself be ushered out the door. 

Clarke turned back to the map, mind going a mile a minute. 

In the hall, Madi froze looking up at the man outside the door, her eyes wide. Bellamy smiled down at her and she spun around, trying to get past Tori.

“I don’t think so, kiddo,” she said, holding the girl back.

“No, you don’t understand, I need to talk to  _ nomon _ —”

“You can go in,” Tori directed him, ignoring the girl struggling in her arms. “I’d recommend answering any and all of  _ her _ questions. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

So he walked in.

* * *

 

Clarke heard him enter, but she kept her back to him, waiting for him to speak first. There was an awkward silence that she let pass, pretending to still be studying the map in front of her. 

“We didn’t mean to intrude on... whatever it is you’ve got running here,” he started hesitantly.

Clarke froze, every muscle pulling taut. She closed her eyes, telling her frantically beating heart she had heard him wrong. It was wishful thinking. The man standing behind her, not five feet away, was not her best friend. Her partner. The other half of her soul. He wasn’t. He couldn’t be. 

But she couldn’t turn around to check. She couldn’t bear the disappointment if it wasn’t him when her entire being was screaming it was. So she waited for him to speak again. To make sure she was wrong.

She wasn’t. 

He kept talking, but she didn’t hear a word he said. Her hands curled into fists on the table and tears sprung to her eyes as she just… listened. 

She had come to terms with the fact that she’d probably never hear his voice again a long time ago. She had spent six years calling him, praying to a god she didn’t believe in that she’d receive even so much as a burst of static in response. The radio silence was the worst pain she’d ever felt. Worse than burying Wells. Worse than having a scalpel shoved into her chest. Worse than the radiation burns the death wave left her with.

But if six years of nothing was what it took to bring him back to her, she’d do it again. In a heartbeat. 

She turned around. He stopped talking mid-sentence, his mouth dropping open slightly. 

For what felt like an eternity, they both just stared at each other. His hair was longer, almost down to his chin. He looked sharper, the angles of his face just slightly more refined. But he was Bellamy.

She took a slow step towards him and he did nothing but blink in response. She continued until she was close enough to have to look up to make eye contact. He was stiff, quiet, like he was hardly breathing.

She reached her hand up and settled it over his heart, feeling the steady rhythm beneath her fingertips. He was  _ alive _ . His heartbeat picked up slightly when she looked at him again. The look in his eyes was like nothing she had ever seen before. It was the sorrow of every goodbye they had ever shared all rolled into one. Her brows furrowed in concern, asking him what was going on in the silent language that only they spoke.

His hands moved to hover over her face, moving mechanically, like he had done it a thousand times.

She felt the heat of him radiating all around her and closed her eyes, basking in it. She exhaled in a slow sigh, and he finally touched her, cupping her face.

When she opened her eyes again, tears were falling down his face.

“You’re still here,” he breathed. 

She nodded, a watery smile on her face, and wrapped her arms around him, pressing her face into his shoulder. He responded instantly, burying his own face in her hair.

Both of their knees collapsed beneath them and they dropped to the floor, still holding each other. She wasn’t sure how long they stayed there, crying into each other, but eventually, they pulled away.

She brushed away a strand of hair from his face. “Bellamy,” she said, her voice hoarse.

“Clarke,” he whispered, like her name was a secret meant just for the two of them. He ran her strand of red hair through his fingers and she leaned into his touch.

“Took you long enough,” she said, a teasing glint in her eye. 

He smiled, full of a fondness she could not describe, and her heart jumped. “You have no idea.”

“I missed you,” she whispered, brushing his cheekbone with her thumb.

“That’s the understatement of the century, Princess,” he replied, his eyes telling her everything she needed to know.

“The mining colony,” Clarke said, keeping her voice low, knowing she didn’t need to preface anything with him. “They came down about a week ago. I haven’t been able to get in contact with Octavia… I’m sorry. But I told the colonists we could help them survive if they dig the bunker out.”

“And they put you in charge,” Bellamy continued, with a small smile. “What an expected surprise.”

“An oxymoron,” she said, grinning back at him. 

He let out a laugh and closed his eyes, resting his forehead against hers. They stayed there, silent for a moment.

“I thought you were dead.”

Clarke opened her eyes at that. “I’m not.”

“I left you to die,” he continued as if she hadn’t spoken.

She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Bellamy.” 

He looked at her. “I left you to die,” he repeated, his voice breaking.

“You did the right thing, Bellamy.”

“Did I?” 

“ _ Yes _ . If you’d stayed behind,  _ you’d _ be dead. I don’t think I could’ve gotten through that.”

“You can get through anything.” 

“You made the right choice.”

A moment of silence passed, and they both became painfully aware of just how close they were. No more than a few inches separated them, their legs tangled where they sat. 

“Clarke—”

A knock sounded at the door interrupting him.

“Yes?” Clarke answered, clearing her throat and standing up. 

“What should we do with the group at the perimeter?” 

“Nothing, Alex. I can handle it.”

Clarke held out a hand and helped Bellamy up from the floor. Neither of them let go once he was standing.

He looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “Phoenix?”

“From the ashes…,” she started.

Bellamy shook his head fondly, smiling to himself.

Clarke let a moment pass, letting it sink in that he was  _ here _ , in front of her. Then, hesitantly: “You should go get everyone.”

“Where are  _ you _ going?” he questioned, his voice immediately transitioning back into seriousness.

“I…” she paused a moment and looked up at him hopefully. “I have a daughter.” 

Bellamy’s eyes softened, the corners of his lips pulling up. “You do?”

She nodded. “She walked out with Tori just before you came in. You probably saw her.”

“Yeah, I think I did. I think she tried to get back in here to warn you about me.”

Clarke chuckled. “Yeah, that sounds like her. Anyway, I should… give her a head’s up?”

“Makes sense.” He looked down at their entwined hands, then back up at her, a strained look on his face. 

“Meet me in the main square. I’m not going anywhere.”

Bellamy nodded. He raised their hands to his face and kissed her knuckles before letting go and exiting the room before he lost his nerve.

* * *

 

“Tell me  _ everything _ ,” Madi shrieked, launching herself at Clarke as soon as she stepped through the door of the makeshift armory. 

“Woah—”

“It was him, right? Was it Bellamy? I thought I recognized him from when I was little and from your drawings, but I wasn’t sure and Tori wouldn’t let me back—”

“ _ Yes _ , Madi,” Clarke said, cutting the girl off. “It was Bellamy.”

The girl let out a squeal, barely stopping herself from jumping up and down.

“I can’t  _ wait _ to meet him. Well, meet him again, I guess. Do you think—”

“It’s not just Bellamy,” Clarke explained patiently. “It’s all of them.”

“ _ What!? _ Why didn’t you  _ lead _ with that?”

“You didn’t exactly give me the chance,” Clarke replied with a smile.

“Well, what are we still doing standing around in here?” Madi grabbed Clarke’s hand and started to pull her from the armory, but Clarke planted her feet.

“I just…,” Clarke started. “I just want to make sure you know this isn’t going to change things. We’re still going to do your lessons, we’re still going to—”

“God,  _ I know _ , Clarke.”

Clarke’s face dropped a little at that, and Madi stopped pulling her. The girl’s face softened.

“Look, I don’t expect things not to change. We’ve been by ourselves for  _ years _ and now there are dozens of people wandering around. Now there are people you know. People you care about. People you  _ love _ .”

Clarke’s eyes dropped to the ground. “I know, but that doesn’t—”

“Clarke.” Madi waited until Clarke looked into her eyes again before continuing. “I don’t expect you to spend every minute of every day with me anymore. Honestly, I’d be disappointed if you did. I want you to spend time with your friends. I want  _ me _ to spend time with your friends.”

“I just don’t want you to think that I care about or love you any less just because they’re back.”

“I promise you, I don’t. And I  _ won’t _ . Now take me to meet your damn friends already.”

* * *

 

“Okay, you know I’d follow you anywhere, but you’re starting to freak me out,” Murphy complained.

“I agree,” Echo jumped in. “You look like an anxious foul.”

Bellamy had led the six of them to the center of the city, not saying a word. He didn’t know what to say in the first place.  _ Hey, by the way, our friend and the love of my life that we all thought was dead is actually alive, here, and running this rescue effort. Surprise! _

“Okay, this is too much,” Raven declared, pushing herself to her feet from her seat among the rubble. She marched over and grabbed him by the shoulders, halting his continued pacing. She shook him lightly as she looked straight into his eyes and asked, “What the  _ hell _ is going on?”

He opened his mouth to respond when movement over Raven’s head caught his attention. The worried crease between his eyebrows disappeared as Clarke and Madi entered the square, a smile making its way to his mouth. 

Their friends caught on, turning as one to follow Bellamy’s gaze.

“Oh my god,” Harper said. 

“Alright,” Murphy nodded to himself. “Now I get it.” Emori elbowed him. 

Raven was the first to move, walking to Clarke and pulling her into a tight hug. 

“Thank you,” she whispered into the other woman’s ear. 

Clarke squeezed her tighter in response. 

Monty joined in right after, then Harper, and soon all six of them were hugging the friend they thought they’d lost. 

While Clarke was occupied, Madi made her way over to Bellamy and introduced herself. 

“I’m Bellamy,” he replied.

“I know,” she smiled before wrapping her arms around his waist. 

Bellamy let out a breath and returned the gesture. He looked up at Clarke only to find her already looking at him, smiling the smile he thought he’d never get to see.

* * *

 

While Clarke showed them around the dig site she’d set up and found them places to sleep, Bellamy and Clarke were inseparable. 

They remained in physical contact, an unspoken reminder that the other was still there. Hands entwined, a palm on the small of a back, an arm around a bicep. It didn’t matter. 

As the day winded down, all Clarke wanted to do was talk to him. Apparently, she wasn’t as inconspicuous as she thought she was being. 

“God, get  _ outta here _ ,” Murphy complained when they had all gathered around a campfire. “Your puppy dog eyes are making me sick.” 

Clarke looked over at Madi then to find her absorbed in conversation with Raven discussing quantum something-or-other that Clarke had no hopes of ever understanding. 

The rest of them soon caught on to Murphy’s not-so-subtle plot to drive them away, and joined in, going so far as to half-heartedly toss pebbles in their direction. Madi nodded and smiled at Clarke, mouthing “ _ go _ ” before turning back to Raven. 

Clarke laughed and pulled Bellamy to his feet, leading him into the woods where she hid the rover, their friends letting out dog whistles behind them. 

“Where we going, Princess?” he asked, sliding an arm around her waist to rest on her hip. 

She stopped when they reached their destination and turned to him, placing a hand on his arm. “Do you trust me?”

“Always,” he replied without hesitation. 

She opened the driver’s side door of the rover and hopped in. “You coming?”

He walked around to the other side, settling into the passenger’s seat and taking a look around.

“What?” Clarke asked when he said nothing for a while. 

“Did you live in here?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“Yeah. It… it was the closest thing I had to home, after.” 

Clarke started driving, the sound of tires on the grass and the wind through the trees surrounding them until she finally spoke again.

“It reminded me of you.”

She saw Bellamy look over at her out of the corner of her eye but kept her focus on the road in front of them, suddenly bashful. The rest of the short trip passed in comfortable silence. They pulled up to the clearing and Clarke opened her door and hopped out, knowing Bellamy would follow suit.

“Wow,” he said, taking in the view over the valley. 

“Yeah,” Clarke replied, climbing up onto the hood. “You should see it when the sun rises.”

Bellamy climbed up with her, immediately wrapping his arm around her. She snuggled into him and heard a crinkling sound as she scooted closer. Clarke pulled back slightly and looked at him. 

“Is that paper?”

“Oh, uh…” Bellamy reached into the pocket of his pants and pulled out a folded piece of parchment. He held it out to her delicately, like it would fall apart if he made the wrong move. His freckled cheeks darkened slightly with his blush as she took it from his hands and unfolded it.

She let out a shaky breath when she realized what exactly she was holding, and looked back up at him, her eyes watering.

“I found it in your mom’s desk when we got to the Ring.”

“You brought it down with you.”

Bellamy cupped her cheek and caught a fallen tear with his thumb. “It reminded me of you.”

Clarke pressed her forehead against his briefly, then nuzzled back into his neck, tucking the sketch into a pocket in her jacket. Bellamy rubbed comforting circles on her shoulder. 

“How’d you find this place?” he asked after a while.

“I was looking for the highest point in the habitable zone. This is it.”

“Why?” he asked curiously.

“So I could call you.” 

Bellamy pulled back so he could look at her. “What?”

“I… I called you. On the radio,” she gestured through the windshield where the portable satellite was visible. 

“When?” His eyes were wide.

“Every morning,” Clarke replied, looking out over the valley again. “It’s when the Ark would pass over.”

“How long?” he asked, almost begging her. When she didn’t answer: “How long did you call me, Clarke?”

She didn’t say anything; she just turned back to him and let her eyes answer for her. 

His face crumpled. “Clarke—”

“It’s okay,” she reassured him, her hands resting on the sides of his neck. 

“I thought you were dead, but you—”

“Bellamy—”

“You didn’t know, and you kept—”

“ _ Bellamy _ ,” she tried again. 

“ _ Why? _ ” 

Clarke looked at him quizzically. “Why, what?”

“Why did you keep calling?” he asked, his voice small.

She smiled at him then, and looked as deep into his eyes as she could, before softly uttering, “I had hope.”

Bellamy leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. Clarke responded, tears slipping down her cheeks, and wove her fingers into his hair. 

Soon, too soon, he pulled away, their foreheads pressed together once more. He waited until she opened her eyes.

“I love you.”

Clarke smiled back at him and brushed the hair from his eyes. “I love you, too.”

Bellamy let out a small, disbelieving laugh. “I’m sorry it took me six years to say it.”

“It didn’t.”

They stayed awake into the night, kissing, smiling, and simply  _ being _ . Together. At some point, they must have dozed off because the next thing Clarke knew, the dim light of the sunrise was waking her. She picked her head up from Bellamy’s chest and lightly shook him awake.

“Everything alright?” he asked, blinking sleep away.

“Come here.”

Clarke pulled him from the hood of the rover and walked over to the log she sat on every day for six years. They stood and watched the light creep over the barren remains of the devastated earth in silence.

“Bellamy?” 

He looked down at her.

“It’s been two thousand, two hundred and fifteen days since  _ praimfaya _ .”

He wrapped his arms around her, and she clasped her hands together behind his back.

“We’re home.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are always appreciated. I live for the #reviews.
> 
> Come say hi on [tumblr](https://fen-ha-fuck-you.tumblr.com).


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